


Anything But an Ordinary Day

by narnian_starkid



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Also includes description of car accidents, Gen, More whump, TG3 H/C, WARNING: does mention off screen death (of a very minor character), because who doesn't love a little whump :), possible angst?, shameless whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-08 16:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7765702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narnian_starkid/pseuds/narnian_starkid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the course of one ordinary morning, one ordinary drive across London in an ordinary taxi, everything can change.</p>
<p>The news reports from the day tell a story about a massive pile-up in the centre of London, with numerous casualties, chaos in the street, and occupying emergency crews from across London to deal with the disaster.</p>
<p>What they don't tell you, is the identity of three of its victims.......</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by my participation in a local event in my town called 'Emergency Services Day'. As a paramedic student at my local university, I was offered the chance to be a patient in the multi-agency demonstration, showing the response to a car rollover. So, as I was lying in the car (which was on its side, driver's side - aka my side - to the ground, so not the most comfortable thing in the world :P), the idea for this fic just materialised.

(Jeremy's POV)

The sizzling and hissing of a broken engine was the first thing I woke up to. The pain shooting around my body was the second thing, and the one that made my eyes open more fully. Carnage greeted me from every angle. Car bodies lay strewn around the intersection, broken glass littered the road like sharp, shiny water droplets. People all around me, screaming in agony or fear (I couldn’t really tell which), but I was only worried about two other people: the two people who had been sitting beside me in the taxi.

James was directly next to me – in the middle seat – and he was unconscious. A deep gash was bleeding steadily just above his eyebrow, but his chest was rising and falling in a steady, comforting rhythm, and when I put a shaky hand against his wrist, I was relieved to feel a steady – albeit slightly weakened – pulse. 

Richard was on James’ other side, and he was conscious (thankfully), and apparently not badly hurt. He caught my gaze and gave me a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hiya” he croaked out, breaking off and coughing violently. It was then that I saw the smoke from a car right next to us: I felt slightly sick and closed my eyes.

Rubbing his chest as the coughs subsided, he reached around and undid his seatbelt. Mission completed, he leant over the still unconscious James and felt for a pulse in our taxi driver – Christ, I’d nearly forgotten about him! 

I watched Richard’s face as he registered what he felt beneath his fingertips. When I saw his eyes widen and the colour completely drain from his face, I didn’t need to ask why.

“Shit” I mumbled, and immediately winced as speaking sent more sparks of pain flying around my body. Richard looked up at that, and he frowned.

“You alright, Jezza?” he asked, sitting back in his seat.

I shot him a look.

“Right, sorry. Stupid question” he muttered, coughing again.

Despite the situation, I couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“What the fuck happened?” I asked, still trying to think back. All I could remember was chatting to James and Richard about something (arguing more like), and then there was a loud bang, the screeching of tyres and then another loud bang, then nothing.

Richard stayed silent; he was digging around in his bag, tongue between his teeth in a comically concentrated expression. About thirty seconds later, he pulled a miniature first aid kit out of the main pocket with a triumphant “Ah ha!” and setting it down on his lap.

Taking out the gauze and some saline, he set about cleaning mine and his own minor wounds, before getting more and starting to tend to the gash on James’ head. About half way through the process, we were rewarded with a soft groan and a weak bat on the hand from our patient.

“Stay still James, I need to clean this up” Richard told him, pouring more saline onto the gauze and applying it to the gash. James, having opened his eyes and taken in the scene before him, relaxed slightly and let Richard finish the job. 

Satisfied, he put his first aid kit back in his bag, just as a fireman came and knocked on our window.

“Everyone okay in here?” he asked. I felt immediately calmed by his presence: he was here to help us, and we would soon be out.

“We’re all okay for the moment, but I don’t know about our driver” I replied in a hoarse voice, studiously ignoring Hammond, who looked away at that last part.

The fireman – Ross, according to his name-tag – simply nodded and walked around to the driver’s side door, reaching through and checking for a pulse. Then he just walked away towards the waiting paramedics – our suspicions were confirmed when we saw a sheet being brought out and being taken over to our car.

“Shit” James muttered, echoing my own words from earlier. 

***  
There wasn’t much I can tell you about what happened next: if you speak to any emergency personnel, they always tell you that it’s ‘controlled chaos’, and that’s exactly what it was here. 

Within a few minutes of their arrival, the paramedics had divided the scene into those who could walk – so Hammond was out safely – and those who couldn’t, who were still in their vehicles – which meant me and James.

We both had collars on, and James had an oxygen mask, and as he was starting to drift into unconsciousness again, the paramedics wanted to get him out and to hospital as soon as possible. They were concerned about a serious head injury and some internal bleeding. 

I had an uncomfortable flashback at that moment, but pushed it aside in my head and concentrated on what the paramedics around me were saying. They were telling me that they wanted to get me out on a spine board and onto their stretcher. James was nearly out now, and on the way to the waiting helicopter – shit, he was in a bad way then – and the paramedics had decided they were going to take me to hospital via road ambulance. 

I just sat there and listened, feeling very tired. Every part of my body was in pain, although it wasn’t as bad as it had been – I suspect they had given me some pain relief by now – but the exhaustion was taking over. I drifted in and out of awareness, and maybe five minutes later, I was in the back of an ambulance being driven towards the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Be Continued.....
> 
> Next chapter, we catch up with the Hamster! Triage is a pesky thing......
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you thought!  
> Much love xx!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing from where the last chapter left off, with the Hamster!
> 
> I will say that I did do some research about trauma centres in London, and just picked one (also based on reviews, though we all know how accurate those can be....). Also, I do use some medical jargon in this chapter, simply because that's how doctors/nurses/paramedics talk to each other. If you have any questions about what something is, feel free to ask me, or just Google it :P

(Hammond's POV)

I watched from the open space I had been steered towards with the rest of the ‘walking wounded’ as first James was lifted out of the car and dutifully wheeled over to the waiting helicopter. Barely two minutes later, another team had freed Jeremy and was taking him over to a nearby road ambulance, lights flashing, driver ready at the wheel.

The first-aider who had been put in charge of managing the less wounded of casualties until the paramedics could be freed up took my pulse for what felt like the billionth time since I had been left here. They weren’t asking me any questions, and then they were called over to another casualty, allowing me some space to think.

News crews were starting to arrive at the scene, like vultures circling a decomposing carcass. Cameras were flashing in the corner of my eye, the babble of reporters barely audible over the crunch of metal, the smashing of glass, the sirens from departing ambulances and the shouted instructions shared between emergency workers. 

The noise alone was enough to induce a serious headache.

Then I had a sudden thought: this was going to be breaking news – massive, multi-vehicle crashes usually are – and made even more widely publicised if someone found out that three of the casualties were “those blokes off Top Gear”. Which lead me to another thought, one which prompted a rather frantic dig in my pockets and my bag looking for my phone.

Mindy.

The last thing I wanted was for her and the girls to find out about this on the news, or from a second-hand source who had heard it on the news. This time, it was going to come from me.

Having found my phone, I was caught by another coughing fit, and doubled over. This car smoke was really starting to get to me, I thought, as I peered at my phone screen through watery eyes, pressing the 1 on my speed dial list and trying to ignore the soreness of my chest.

It was ringing.

One. Two. Three.

At that point, I spotted some paramedics heading my way, led by another first-aider, who had caught me coughing earlier. I was forced to abandon the phone call as the paramedics knelt down next to me and began their examination.

***

Five minutes or so later, fitted with a free oxygen mask (which was bloody uncomfortable, by the way!), I was taken to another waiting ambulance for transport. I kept trying to protest, saying that there were plenty of people more seriously injured than myself, but they shot me down by saying that they were “all being taken care of.” And with that, I was deposited onto the stretcher inside the truck and we set off.

It was then that I remembered that I needed to ring Mindy. Wrestling an arm out of the seatbelt, I reached into my jacket pocket and took out my phone. The paramedic in the back with me raised an eyebrow from where he was looking at the monitor thing.

“Wife” I said simply, to which he nodded in understanding, giving me a quiet “ah” in response. I took that as permission to carry on.

This time, the phone only rang twice before I heard a voice on the end that was not Mindy.

“Dad?” It was Izzy.

Ah, shit.

“Iz, is your mother there?” I asked, trying my hardest not to sound like I was talking with lungs full of car smoke (I’d taken that bloody mask off for this, thankfully).

She took a second to reply.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

I fought the itch at the back of my throat that symbolised another coughing fit was on its way.

“Iz, please, put your mother on” I pleaded.

She must have picked something in my tone, because barely five seconds later, Mindy was on the other end.

“Hello darling” she greeted.

Immediately everything felt so much better. I took a deep breath and steeled myself for what I was about to tell her.

“Mind, you haven’t heard anything big on the news, have you?” I asked, still cautious.

“Just about to turn it on. Why? Jeremy hasn’t said anything stupid, has he?” she replied, half-jokingly. I couldn’t help but smile at that.

“No, but I just thought I’d let you know that you might see something about a big accident in London about half an hour ago” I rushed that last bit, thinking it might make the impact slightly less if I said it quickly.

There was silence on Mindy’s end for a few moments. Then she must have put it together in her head, for she gasped and immediately asked

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, look they’re taking me in for a check-up, but I’ve been assured that’s just a precaution. Jez and James are worse off than me-” I trailed off, thinking for the first time about my two co-presenters. 

I don’t mind admitting I was worried: for all the times we tell the world we loathe each other (even though the average ape can see we all get along), we do still like each other. And now two of my mates were seriously injured, and I couldn’t do anything about it. Crikey, is this how they felt all those years ago? If so, I’m glad I wasn’t in their shoes back then: at least I know they’ll be okay.

Well, I’m pretty sure they will. Hopefully. They have to.

Mindy’s gentle voice on the other end of the line pulled me back from my thoughts. Mentally shaking myself, I tried to concentrate on what she was saying.

“Do you know where they’re taking you?”

I paused, then pulled the phone away from my mouth and turned to the paramedic next to me, who was now reaching over to turn on the automatic blood pressure machine.

“Um, which hospital are we going to?” I asked, as he pressed the button.

“Just up to the Royal London Hospital – I’m pretty sure that’s where your friends have gone as well” he replied, giving me a small, but no less reassuring smile. I gave him a nod in thanks.

I relayed the information down the line to Mindy, who promised that she was on her way with the girls. I told her not to worry and we said our goodbyes just as the other paramedic up front announced we were turning into the hospital. I switched my phone off and lay back on the stretcher, utterly exhausted.

***

I hate hospitals. And given how many times I’ve been in and out of them, I think I’m qualified to say that.

But this, this was far worse.

For a start, we were ramped at the emergency department (at least, I think that’s what the paramedics called it, I shan’t repeat their exact wording here), and were left waiting for nearly half an hour (pretty good according to one of the paramedics over my shoulder). So when we finally got into the emergency department, I could see nearly every doctor and nurse in London running around – trying to deal with the sudden influx of patients.

I was whisked away into an examination bay and told that a doctor would be with us shortly. Sure enough, a middle-aged woman with short black hair soon came around the curtain and readied her clipboard of notes. The paramedics gave their handover, while a nurse came in and started taking observations. 

“-Car impact on driver’s side at around 40mph, concerned about a possible rib fracture, possible pneumothorax-” their medical jargon was pretty much entirely lost on me, as I lay in the bed, fighting another urge to cough.

Alas, the urge won, and I was bent double with the force of it. Rubbing my chest, I was starting to struggle to breathe properly. I sent a frantic look to the nurse (who had propped me up), and she nodded and turned to the doctor. A silent exchange – medical professionals are so good at those, I’m almost jealous – passed between them and next thing I knew, I was being wheeled down for an X-Ray.

I don’t really remember much after that, just going into the X-Ray room and then everything started getting really fuzzy, and the whole breathing situation was getting more difficult, until I nearly passed out from lack of oxygen.

Next thing I know, I’m opening my eyes to find myself in an unfamiliar ward in a bed with a curtain drawn around it. There was a strange-looking tube next to me, with bloody, bubbly fluid sitting in a container at one end of it, and a bandage was wrapped around my chest. I may have been groggy, but I could still put those pieces together. 

Seeing I was awake, the nurse smiled at me reassuringly. 

“Try not to worry, we just had to put that in to drain your chest cavity. One of your lungs had collapsed. You've been out for about an hour or so” she told me, putting a hand on my shoulder as I tried to sit up.

Oi. So much for telling Mindy I was okay.

Mindy! Oh crap, I’d almost forgotten!

“My wife, has she arrived?” I asked, ignoring my dry throat.

She checked her clipboard.

“I’ll just go and check for you. Name?” 

“Mindy. Mindy Hammond” I replied, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t say anything.

Thank God, she just nodded and left the cubicle. Moments later, she returned, a very worried-looking Mindy right on her heels.

“Oh, darling” she murmured as she walked over to my side, pressing a gentle kiss onto my head.

Instantly, the stress of the afternoon started to catch up with me, and Mindy pulled me into a hug. The nurse made a discreet exit around the curtain, leaving the two of us alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.......
> 
> Next chapter, we hear Mindy's thoughts, and about what happened to Jezza and James.
> 
> Until then, my dear readers! Xx <3


End file.
